Mostly Struggling
by Tea for You
Summary: AU. Both James and Harry survived the fateful Halloween. But Lily did not, and suddenly James finds himself to be a widower and a single parent. He needs now to be strong for Harry, but with his own grief and thirst for revenge, it's not going to be easy.
1. Prologue: Halloween

Hello and welcome to read the prologue of MS! A few warnings before you start reading, please: _I don't speak _English. Prepare for grammar mistakes. And, err, this sort of thing might have been done before, but since I haven't yet seen a plot like this one, I'm carrying on with a hopeful heart, that you won't get bored with this like: "Oh, yeah, I've seen at least nineteen stories like this one!" But… this is just too delicious to pass, you know?

So. Yeah. The prologue. Here you go.

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A colourful toy-ball rolled across the living room, over the carpet and onward, determinedly making its way towards a quiet figure sitting on a green sofa. The man didn't notice the approaching toy, as he was currently too deep in his thoughts. He was twirling a mahogany wand in his hand, looking at it with a stern expression. Then he finally sighed and put the wand down on the coffee table, still glancing at it thoughtfully.

He gave a start, when the ball bumped softly into his leg and heard a baby's happy squeal pierce through the smooth, even sound of his wife washing the dishes in the kitchen.

James looked down at the rainbow-coloured plaything and then lifted his head to look into the clear green eyes of a small child with a tuft of black hair and a confused face. The baby boy suddenly smiled widely and tumbled forwards, then halting just as abruptly and resuming to stare at his father again.

James chuckled. The boy's mood swings were quite funny, when you got used to them.

His smile turned into a grin as he grabbed the ball and rose from the sofa and settled down on the floor in front of his son.

"Hey there, buddy. Were you the one who kicked this at me?" he drew out the ball and the one-year-old let out a sharp noise, extending his hands. James merely shook his head.

"No, Harry. It's very rude to disturb someone, when they're occupied. But if you say: please´ and my dad's the best wizard in the world´ I might consider giving this back," he teased and waved the ball in front of Harry.

The boy pouted, but then opened his mouth almost haughtily and said: "A-aa!"

James laughed and gave the toy back to his son, ruffling his hair.

"Maybe James Potter rocks my socks´ would have worked better for you, huh," he murmured, watching Harry play. "Although I can't deny, that I'm a little concerned about how much you like that thing. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're starting to become attached to that muggle sport rather than Quidditch. What's that game's name again? Oh, yeah: Football."

Suddenly his wife appeared at the kitchen door, waving a wet plate threateningly.

"James, I'll have you know, that football is a perfectly fine game! And at least I wouldn't mind a bit if Harry takes interest in it. In fact, even _I _played soccer, when I still went to a muggle school," she proudly declared. James rolled his eyes and winked at Harry, who was watching his parents in curiosity.

"Yes, Lily, I know. You usually tell that to every person you meet after shaking their hands," he replied and turned to his wife, looking at her in disapproval. "I still can't understand why you're bothering to do the dishes on your own. You're a witch, woman, take advantage of it!"

"In case you have forgotten, we're supposed to be living here as muggles, therefore we must act like ones. What if somebody saw us doing magic?"

"I doubt anyone will notice. C'mon, Lily, just a little charm—Nobody's going to see!"

Lily groaned and took her wand out the pocket of her jeans. She pointed it towards the sink and all at once the dishes began to wash themselves clean. She turned around, her hands on her hips and her eyebrow arched.

"Happy now?" she questioned and walked forward. James nodded with a smile. She crouched next to her husband. Harry instantly reached out to her, calling her: "Mama!" Lily practically shone.

"My sweet little boy! Do you want to come into mommy's lap? Do you?" she babbled and gave his son an Eskimo-kiss as she took him into her arms. Harry laughed. James pouted.

"Aw, can I have a hug too?" he asked and flung his arms around Lily.

"Ah, James! Watch it!" she yelped and frowned, but leaned into his embrace. "Seriously, I could have dropped Harry."

"Don't be like that. He's fine. Aren't you, little guy?"

Harry smiled like he knew exactly what his father was asking, looking up at him coyly.

Suddenly the kitchen window, which had been open to let some fresh air in the house, snapped shut. The whole family started hastily, nobody said anything. The dishes were still washing themselves, and Lily slowly drew out her wand. A second later the plates and glasses fell back into the sink, lifeless as ever. There was a complete silence in the room, but one could almost smell the tension.

Everyone's eyes turned upwards, when the windows in the upstairs also closed loudly, one after another. It was like someone invisible was inside the house, confining them in. However, Lily and James had something far worse in mind although both of them desperately hoped to be wrong.

James gasped, when he felt a horrible surge of power from the outside creep in and clung around his heart. He looked at Lily whose eyes widened in terror. They both jumped to their feet, away from each other. As James made a dash to the windows and to the front door, Lily clutched Harry against her chest, nervously petting his head. James struggled to get them open, even attempting to break the glass, but in vain. He slowly turned around, his eyes ghastly and all the blood from his face disappeared.

"Lily, it's- it's _him_. He's locked all the windows and the door. He's trapped us in here," he said, looking like he himself just realized what he was saying. Lily gasped, looking very faint. James continued: "He must have found Peter. Tortured the secret out of him—Oh, God, he's probably killed Sirius and Remus too…!"

James was in panic. He ran to the coffee table, where his wand still lay. He breathed heavily and looked at his wand. His eyes rose to meet his wife's: They were full of tears and fear. She was scared for her family.

Slowly, submitting determination filled him, and he gripped his wand tightly. He may be lost, but maybe, maybe he could buy some time for Lily and Harry to escape. Run, apparate—anything! As long as they wouldn't die, they couldn't die…

"Lily, take Harry away from here. I'm going to fight him, I'll hold him off…"

Lily shook her head madly. Harry whined in her arms.

"No! You can't, James! I won't leave you!" she cried. James looked at her sharply, though inside he was breaking apart.

"It's the only way. I think I can detain him for some time, and in that time you have to leave this house. Understand? You have to keep Harry safe, no matter what," his voice cracked and he cursed himself for that. Lily sobbed and lowered her head, her dark red hair cascading over her shoulders. James gulped, but didn't let the tears come.

"I understand!" Lily wept and brushed her tears aside. James kissed her hastily, careful not to crush Harry.

"I love you," she whispered, when they broke apart. James cupped her face.

"And I love you. I love you so much…" he stroked her cheek with his thumb. Then he turned to face the door, his wand out and pointing at the entry. "Now, GO!"

Lily rushed up the stairs. James heard Harry crying quietly, and felt something inside of him break. He'd never thought, that all their fighting to live at least a fairly normal life would come to this.

He heard steps from the outside, and straightened his position, his eyes flaring with anger. He was ready. He'd make the bastard pay. He would fight him.

It was then the door blew up. It flew of off its hinges and then burst into countless wooden pieces on the floor. James quickly took cover behind a near bookshelf and stayed there until he presumed it was safe to come out. He left his hiding place, trying his best to look calm and keep his heart from bursting like the front door had just done. He assumed to be faced with the intruder, the housebreaker, and the murderer…

But there was no one.

He didn't see anybody at the door. James' chest hurt, his heart was beating hard. What was going on? His hazel coloured eyes were round as he searched for—a sign, a person, anything— everywhere around him. The hallway was empty. Where was he? Was he wearing an Invisible Cloak or something?

Then, a baby's crying: Harry's crying. Followed by Lily's pleading screams and laughter of Lord Voldemort.

He was upstairs. _He was with Lily and Harry_. He had deceived him and _you fell for it you bloody IDIOT! _

He saw no stairs under his feet as he sped up. He didn't realize the door, which led to Harry's room, had also been blasted. At first he didn't even note the black, intimidating figure in front of him, only the pale woman and the frightened baby in her arms, still alive, and for a second he had time to be relieved until his sense kicked in.

Voldemort turned around. He was dressed in his dark robes, only his head and skeleton-like hands visible. His slit nostrils flared, when he saw James staring at him at the door. A sneer made its way to his pale face and his thin hand was gripping his wand, anticipating the moment he could finally kill his enemy after so frustratingly many failed tries.

James felt fear and panic swelling in his stomach. It wasn't the first time he had seen him, he and Lily had narrowly escaped from him three times already, but now he was against him alone. The mere thought sounded absurd. He was really here, _here_. But what horrified him the most was that Lily and Harry were still here, too. They hadn't had time to get away. And then all his thoughts left him, as Voldemort spoke.

"Good evening, Mister Potter… James," he said. His voice was surprisingly light. "Such a… pleasure to see you again, here, in your own home. Oh, and happy Halloween."

James seethed as he watched Voldemort touch the wall of his home, the spot right beside Lily's head. She was shaking. The Dark Wizard was truly enjoying himself. He growled.

"Get the hell away—"

He didn't manage to end his sentence, when he was already thrown against the wall. Lily shrieked. He dropped on the floor, moaning and tried to get to his feet, though his back ached from pain. Voldemort stepped forward.

"You should really control that dirty mouth of yours. I have a very low tolerance for such language," his red eyes flashed. James rose and straightened his wand-arm.

"Stupefy!" he shouted, but Voldemort blocked it with a swish of his wand, and used his own curse.

"Avada Kedavra!"

James quickly hopped away from the Killing Curse's way. Voldemort was looking at him in pity and amusement.

"Leap on, little frog. I will get you anyway—Crucio!"

"Protego!" James voice was hoarse. However, the shield only held for a few seconds until it broke. James felt like he and every cell in his body were scorched, stabbed and stamped on. And it only got worse. James screamed. It hurt so much…

After what felt like an eternity, it stopped. James was gasping for breath. He cried out, when Voldemort treaded on his hand.

"Poor James. Thought you and your mudblood wife thought you could be safe in here. What a shame—Don't struggle, Potter. Petrificus Totalus. You're completely under my mercy now. I think, that I might let you live a while longer. What do you say about that, hmm? I'll make your wife scream, so that you'll hear her last moments. And your son—maybe I'll feed his corpse to my snake."

"You killed my friends, didn't you? That's how you found us," James gulped angrily, fighting back the tears. He turned to glare at the man with the snake like face, yelling: "YOU KILLED PETER, REMUS AND SIRIUS, DIDN'T YOU!"

_I'm so sorry, Lily, I failed. Please, get away._

"…Sirius Black?" Voldemort repeated incredulously and burst out in laughter, it was high-pitched and cold. "Yes… It seems he did have a major part in all of this, after all. And… yes… I guess I did kill´ someone you considered as a friend."

James felt dizzy. The words: "kill," and "friend" echoed in his head and it was hard to understand that two such different words could be connected.

"No. No, no, no…"

"…Friend. That makes the betrayal twice as painful, doesn't it?" Voldemort sneered. James' eyes widened.

_Betrayal? _

"Time to die! Avada Ked—"

"NO! Please, spare James and my son! Kill me instead!" Lily ran forward threw herself on the still body of her husband, sobbing. James' insides froze. Harry, whom Lily had hidden in the corner of the room, watched the happenings before him in scare.

"Lily, what are you doing?" James whispered in shock.

"I'm sorry! I can't live without you, I'm sorry!" she cried brokenly. She turned to Voldemort, as if offering herself to him.

"Take me, please! Don't kill them, I beg of you. Kill me. Kill me and spare James and Harry. Have mercy, please!" she pleaded, only to be hit by a harsh slap on her face.

"Move, you foolish woman. If you give me the boy and the man, I'll let you live. Move," Voldemort hissed, but Lily shook her head furiously.

"No, take me! Take my life instead of my son and James, please—"

"I've had enough of your persistence, idiotic mudblood! _Avada Kedavra_!"

There was a bright flash of green light. James shouted out Lily's name. He was sure the time stopped, that everything stilled to watch as his wife's eyes suddenly emptied and rolled to the back of her head, her body falling on the floor beside him with a: "thump." Her other hand landed next to her face, which was facing away from James, and the other arm rested on her stomach. She didn't move. Her chest ceased to rise and fall in the pace of her breath. James could almost see the blood in her veins halt. She was just so still, and he couldn't but watch.

"Lily—Lily, no," he stuttered in disbelief. "Wake up, Lily. LILY! LILY, PLEASE!"

Harry burst out in tears. James gasped and his head snapped towards the baby. Voldemort turned.

James couldn't let it happen. He suddenly realized that he had his wand still in his hand. He managed to fight the paralysing curse back enough to turn the wand towards his son with his fingertips.

"_Accio, Harry James Potter_," he said and the boy flew past the astonished Dark Lord and to him. He wished more than anything at the moment, that he could cover Harry with his body, but this was as far as he could protect him. At least he wouldn't let him die alone.

"Yes, Potter. Bring him to him and I kill you both with one curse," smiled Voldemort cruelly. James looked at him, stooping, and turned his head so that his forehead touched his son's. He closed his eyes, thinking of his family and Lily.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The curse hit him; it was ripping him apart! It bore through his skin and burned his face, hurting like hundred knifes and blades and axes were slashing him. Was this…death? Had Lily felt the same?

What happened next was blurry to him. James was bathing in green light and losing consciousness, when all of sudden something… _exploded_. A wave of force and energy swept over him, and he heard the ceiling crack, furniture getting ripped into pieces, the walls collapse... before passing out, James thought he heard a weak moan and a cool wind flying past him.

But after that, the great James Potter, now a widower and beaten, lay unconscious in the ruins of his home, oblivious to the fact, that his, and his son's lives had just changed forever.

-

I'm so sorry James. Well, that's end. Next is the first chapter in which (dun, dun, dun) James wakes up very much alive, and so does Harry… but not Lily. James won't be happy, I can tell you that.

Do the day's good deed and leave a review, please!


	2. Those who Woke

Hmm. I just now realized, that with: "Petrificus Totalus," the one paralyzed can't speak after all. And James sort of did just that in the last chapter. Err… whoops. Ahem, well, we can pretend, that Voldemort used his great-dark-wizard powers to paralyse him only partly, because he thought it'd probably be really funny to let him be able to… scream or something. Or James used his great-good-guy-high-on-adrenaline-powers to break it.

Thank you for the reviews! Hope you'll like this chapter, because here it is…

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Chapter 1. Those who Woke

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James awoke slowly, swaying between the line of dream and consciousness in a way that vaguely reminded him of his worst experiences with drunkenness. The first thing he became aware of was his horrible, head-splitting headache. He groaned and silently wished, that he hadn't called Lily a drama queen, when she complained about her migraines. This was the revenge, tenfold.

His forehead itched nastily and he grazed his face with his right hand. He felt some odd, rather sticky substance get stuck on his fingers, but he had again fallen too deep into his insensibility to really care.

What a night. He'd had a really bad dream… He couldn't remember what it was about, but when he tried to recall it, it left him feeling like he couldn't breathe. Something terrible, nevertheless

He felt cold and unconsciously reached for his cover. His other hand was aching painfully, so he used his right hand once more. He didn't find the cover, but came across something soft, thin and long, like silk threads, or hair.

James smiled in his dream. Lily, at least she was in the bed. It must be early if she was still asleep. But why was their bed so hard… so cold, like the floor. Had he accidentally rolled off the bed or something?

James slowly opened his eyes, blinking wearily. He realized, that his back hurt and felt unusually rigid, as did about every other part of his body. He tried to recall how he had ended up here, but to his confusion, he just couldn't remember.

He sat up and looked around, noting, that for some reason he was still wearing his glasses. That was before his breath vanished somewhere around his windpipe. The room looked like it had been hit by a tornado: The furniture was in pieces, and clothes and other objects lay all over the room in a dire mess; Most of the walls had partly crashed down, giving him a straight view into the other rooms and to the stairs; Piping was still sticking out from the broken walls, leaking into the already formed puddles of water; The roof had collapsed in many places, showing the clear night sky.

The house wasn't a house anymore: It was a battlefield. Or more like what was left of the battle.

"What the hell has happened—?"

His eyes fell to his hand. His fingers were bloody. His other hand, the left one, was bruised and swollen, and very sore to even a small move.

The itching substance slid down to the tip of his nose, where it gathered until a drop of it fell to his lap. A small, red spot landed on his once white shirt. James stared at it, and carefully brought his stained hand back to his forehead, and then in front of his eyes. More blood.

He looked beside him. Red hair was everywhere, spread out around a white, inexpressive face. Two familiar green irises peeked under the half-lidded eyes, but he could see, that they didn't really watch anything.

James trembled. Something big, heavy and stinging in his throat was choking him, and he thought he was going to faint. It couldn't be true. He was still dreaming—it was just a nightmare. She was just stupefied, nothing more. Lily couldn't be dead. It was impossible. Something like that just couldn't happen to her, not to her.

A weird rattling sound burst out from his mouth. She was there, right next to him, looking more like a porcelain doll than the fiery woman he knew and loved. He leaned over her and carefully he tried to shake her. Her head rolled to the other side, but she didn't wake. She didn't wake.

"Lily…" he whispered, tears blurred his vision. "Lily…!"

He cried. He wasn't sure for how long, but it could have been minutes. At some point he couldn't help himself any longer, and leaned to rest his head in her lap. On her shirt, there became two dark, damp areas: One where he shed his tears, and another where his bloodied forehead lay.

It was the most painful thing James had ever endured. He felt like he was going to die. How could anyone even feel such sadness? It was unbelievable. The emotion was ripping him up, then gluing him back just for him to be torn apart again.

He sobbed into her chest as the memories came crashing down on him: Lily had given up her life, pleaded and begged Voldemort to kill her. Why did she have to be such a bullhead and jump in front of him? She knew he loved her! He'd fought just so that she could live, would've rather stabbed his eyes than had to see her being killed. He would've gladly died in her place—So why did she have to sacrifice herself!

The tears stopped at last. James hiccupped, gasping for breath. Slowly he started to gain it, and just as sluggishly he straightened, wiping his wet cheeks clumsily. He hid his face into his healthy hand, his breathing shaky. After a moment it got easier, but there was still an almost unbearable weight in his chest.

A pitiful cry behind him suddenly got all his attention. He looked down, his eyes wide and his heart bursting.

Harry wailed, fisting his little hands and kicking the air with his legs. On his forehead, there was a deep wound, and the boy's face was in blood. His clothes were a bit torn and he looked upset, but otherwise he was okay. No, more than that—Harry was _fine_. He was alive! James felt giddy.

Oh, Merlin, how could he have forgotten his own son even for just a moment? Lily would be probably happy to hear that her child is being abandoned already! His hands shook as he lifted the boy up and held him in his arms (his hurt hand ached painfully, but James didn't even notice.)

"Shh, Harry, it's okay. It's okay now," he reassured, gritting his teeth and not quite understanding what was happening: He was sure, that Voldemort had used Avada Kedavra on him and Harry, attempting to kill them at the same time. According to sense they weren't supposed to be living anymore. Nobody, _nobody_, had ever been hit by the Killing Curse and survived it. It was a miracle. They were two living miracles.

Suddenly James grabbed his wand from the floor. To his horror, he saw that it had split in two, probably thanks to the same explosion, which had destroyed the house. He dropped the broken wand on the floor and glanced in every direction like a hawk, holding Harry protectively against him.

He knew something had happened during the time Voldemort used the curse, something very unaccountable. However, he had no idea what happened to Voldemort and where he was now. He could still be in this room for all he knew, watching them, just waiting for a chance to strike.

But on the other hand… Whatever had happened, it had definitely started from here. Voldemort had been in close range. If such power could do this to a house, who said it couldn't at least _frighten _the Dark Lord? Maybe even hurt him? James seriously doubted, that Voldemort had expected an outcome like this. Could it really be possible… that he had run away?

Well, James thought grimly, it wasn't like he and Harry had any chance to defend themselves, now that his wand was not in so workable condition. He could as well pretend, that they were the only ones here.

He knew he had to get help. Maybe Aurors and Dumbledore were already on their way. But before that… he had to move Lily. He couldn't leave her to lie there. He just couldn't.

James strictly made sure, that Harry's eyes were turned in the opposite direction of his mother. He didn't want to be disrespectful to Lily, but he didn't want a one-year-old baby to be traumatized either… albeit that might be a bit too late. He carefully walked to Harry's overturned crib, turned it back up and set his son in the bed. His eyes watered slightly, as he begun wiping the blood from the boy's scared face. James looked at him comfortingly, although there was a clear hint of strain in his smile.

"Don't worry, Harry. Dad's not going far. I'll be right back, I promise," he said, his voice hoarse, and kissed the top of Harry's head. Then he turned away, crouching next to his deceased wife.

For a moment he just watched her, trying to not to break down. Then he gently stroked Lily's cheek, much like he had done, when he had told her to run. It seemed like the death was mocking her, making her look impossibly pale and fragile. James' head spun threateningly he hoisted Lily's body up in bridal style. He slowly walked out of the door (or rather through the large hole in the wall, which had been a door) and towards their bedroom.

When in there he carefully put her body on the bed, taking her arms and settled them on her abdomen. Then with a deep breath, he pulled down her eyelids and took a step back.

She didn't look dead. She was merely sleeping serenely. He turned away hesitantly, his heart heaving inside of his chest.

Suddenly there was a booming, even sound coming from the outside. It reminded James of footsteps, but with that noise it'd have to be an elephant strolling down the street. Anyhow, he hurried into Harry's room and took the confused child into his arms. He crept closer to the window—the glass in splinters—and peeked out. Whatever it had been, it had gone towards the front door. James cursed the fact you couldn't see to the front of the house from this direction. Then he noticed something on the ground… He squinted and distinguished big, very big footprints.

The house quaked slightly. Somebody had come in. All of sudden a thought, an image of a certain person imprinted itself into James' mind, and when he took a run down the stairs, still carrying Harry, he knew it just had to be him.

At the bottom of the stairs, his rush came to a halt. Harry had been sucking his thumb, but now turned to look at what his father was staring at: A huge body of a bawling giant was blocking their way. Tears of the size of eggs fell to his black, unruly beard, and he wiped his dark eyes with his large hand, sniffing. The giant was wearing leather boots, and a worn black jacket. He was so big, that he had to stay bent, or his head would have probably crashed through the ceiling. James throat tightened as the giant turned clumsily to his direction.

"Hagrid?" he said tentatively. Harry confirmed this question with a wondering sound. Hagrid's eyes riveted on them, and his expression became one of pure shock.

"James!" he yelled out. Harry jolted and buried his face into his father's shirt, wailing. James momentarily forgot about Hagrid and made soothing noises, patting his son's back. The giant turned, leaning so close to him that James thought he could hear the dormice scamper inside of his enormous jacket.

"Is it really yeh! Merlin, I can't believe this. When Dumbledore found the wards had broken down, he sent me here right away to check, if… if—" at this point his voice wavered. "An' then I saw yeh house, I thought yeh _had _to be gone, that you'd no chance to get away! Bu' here yeh are, James, alive. An' Harry, look at him, he's fine too! Though I think yeh two should probably wash yer faces a bit… Dumbledore's, no, everybody's going to be so happy! They all thought you an' Lily were, were, tha' you were dead!" he sniffed, and almost took James into a bear hug. It was straining for James to get what Hagrid was saying. He let out a deep sigh and sat down on the stairs, Harry still whimpering. Hagrid looked at him in concern.

"James?"

Just then, a familiar rumbling noise came from the outside. James' heart skipped a beat and he jumped back up. He'd know that sound anywhere: It was Sirius' motorbike. The sound of the engine quietened down.

"JAMES! LILY!" a frightened voice screamed and James heard somebody running towards the house. Suddenly Sirius Black burst in, panting and shaking, his face as pale as a sheet.

"Sirius!" James exclaimed in relief. "You're—you're alright!"

His best friend didn't seem to know whether to burst into tears or laughter as he sped to James and pulled him and Harry into a tight hug.

"Thank Merlin, James, I was so terrified," he muttered into the man's shoulder and pulled away, now looking at the baby Harry with tears in his eyes. "You little squirt—! Don't you ever worry me this much ever again, okay, Harry? What a terrible wound you have there… Don't worry, your Godfather's here now and your dad and mum… James, where's Lily?"

The tone of Sirius voice got more hesitant, when he asked the last question. Harry just whimpered and turned his eyes to his father's. Sirius followed the example and his eyes widened.

"James?" he and Hagrid chorused in concern, both leaning forward to the man, who'd started to sway slightly on his feet.

James was feeling suddenly very faint, and having a hard time to focus: Lily. Harry alive. Hagrid. Sirius being okay—He felt like he was on a roller coaster of emotions. He weakly held Harry out.

"Take…" he mumbled as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Either of them grabbed Harry, and he heard distantly someone shout his name, until he fell over, unconscious once again.

--

I amazed myself and got the chapter done. I'm satisfied, although it was reeeally hard to write that whole James-angst thing and I think the ending might have come out little rushed. But there it is! HAH!

The next chapter: James confronts Dumbledore and some other people.

Review!


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